


Complicated

by thesilverarrow



Series: Doctor Who/Companion ficlets [4]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: M/M, background Ninth Doctor/Rose Tyler, background Rose Tyler/Jack Harkness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-15 02:38:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2212599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesilverarrow/pseuds/thesilverarrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Things were complicated with Rose. It had been hard watching her light up in Jack's arms. To his surprise, it had been almost as hard watching Jack come alive for her. Apparently, things could easily grow complicated with Jack, too.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Complicated

Captain Jack Harkness was a good dancer. It wasn't because he had rhythm and a good sense of his own body. He did, of course. Anyone who saw the way the man walked, the easy swagger of his narrow hips and the impressive frame of his broad shoulders, knew he'd be a charming partner for gliding the floor in intricate steps or even just holding close and swaying.   

The problem (or maybe it wasn't a problem): dancing, for Jack, was always a prelude to something else. Extended foreplay, you might call it, whether he meant to bed someone or not. The point was, it was generally a means, rarely an end unto itself. 

And everything for Jack was dancing.

At first, when he joined them in the TARDIS, Jack kept up a seamless performance of himself, the dual role of trickster and hero, but it was a curious thing. It was put on, but it wasn't necessarily false. He knew just how much of himself to let show through. Or maybe it was all him. He knew exactly how to wield himself, using sincerity as a targeted weapon.

Slowly, though, the seams began to show. Of course, even that was maybe part of the game.

He wasn't all that subtle that night in London when he insisted that they all needed to unwind. Unsurprisingly, unwinding involved strong drinks and at a bar with a decent jukebox, by Earth standards. He was all charming smiles and large, roaming hands – more noticeably seductive than usual but also more obviously himself.

Rose knew better, the Doctor could tell, but that didn't stop her from indulging Jack a while: sitting in his lap, flushing and giggling and looking happier than she'd been in a long, long time. Eventually, though, she downed a glass of water, climbed down off the bar stool, and kissed them both on the cheek. Before she stumbled back to the TARDIS there in the alley behind, she told them not to get up to too much trouble.

Once the door swung closed again, the Doctor let out a breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding. Things were complicated with Rose. It had been hard watching her light up in Jack's arms. To his surprise, it had been almost as hard watching Jack come alive for her. Apparently, things could easily grow complicated with Jack, too. Not that he believed they had enough time together for it to come to that.

There was music when they settled in at the bar, slow, pining tracks of Led Zeppelin and long, atmospheric Pink Floyd. They closed down the bar, losing time to scotch and winding stories about all the things they'd seen. It was almost like dancing, the easy but charged give and take of the conversation and the way they drifted closer and closer until they were nearly touching, thigh to thigh.

He contemplated letting Jack kiss him, right there in the bar – it was coming to that, with Jack's inebriation and the Doctor's bone weariness, and it had been a long time indeed – but instead he decided to be the aggressive one. Clearly, the man craved it as much as he craved doing the taking. The Doctor knew the feeling.

So he slid a hand around the back of his neck and, stroking his fingers up into the short hair there, he leaned in and told him in hopefully passable 51st century slang how fucking gorgeous he was and how little effort it would have taken to get into his bed, not that the effort hadn't been half the fun.

As Jack's eyes widened, he added that that he was going to have to take it easy on an old man. Then, Jack barked out a laugh that the Doctor could feel in his belly, and he pressed a hand to his chest, over two wildly beating hearts, giving him a look so warm and more subtly possessive than the Doctor would've thought possible. That, he could feel down to his toes. 


End file.
